2025-07-11, 07:48 PM
The angel fell.
Hundreds of kilometers deep. Hours, days, weeks. The angel didn't know. He didn't even know if he was falling at all. But it had to be that way. They had told him he would fall. Fall endlessly. They hadn't told him what it would feel like. They couldn't. They couldn't feel it. They couldn't feel anything.
But the angel could, and yet couldn't. It was as if he felt everything at once, and then again not. Floating, spinning, dizzying, racing, cold, heat, indescribable, roaring noise, complete silence.
Something was tugging at him, something was stroking his skin. Did he have skin? Did he even have a body anymore?
He tried to open his eyes. What eyes?
He saw nothing. No darkness. Nothing. There was nothing around him.
The angel didn't want to fall anymore and he didn't fall anymore.
Now he felt something wet on his burning skin. Drop after drop pattered onto his hair, his eyelids, his cheeks, moistening his lips, his bare torso.
The angel shivered and trembled. He felt the hard, cold ground beneath him and smelled the musty-sweet earth.
At about the same time, Felix collapsed into a flowerpot somewhere.
A whitish, viscous slime poured out onto the dark earth.
Felix choked and choked, paused, choked again, until his stomach couldn't take anything else.
He wiped his sweating face with the sleeve of his baggy jacket and staggered through the night with unsteady steps. Past the dimly lit shop windows, past barred doors, past the whirring, frantically flickering neon signs. How on earth had he gotten here? His stomach was cramping, but he couldn't vomit anymore. The pain was excruciating.
Felix wrapped his arms around his body and continued to sway, bent over.
After all, it wasn't the first time he'd wandered around drunk and high on some kind of drug. He'd get home eventually. He just needed to find his way.
He left the city center behind, clambering along the walls of buildings through narrow, dark, dirty alleys. Occasional raindrops refreshed his sweaty face.
In a matter of seconds the rain had become heavier and Felix was soaked to the skin.
He rested for a moment, leaning against a wall, then straightened up, brushed back his dark brown hair, and continued walking with firm steps. The fog in his head slowly cleared. He knew his way around this area again; he was almost home.
Just across the street, through the alley, across the street beyond, and he'd be there. He could do it. Just a few more meters, then up the stairs to his apartment, to his bed. No big deal. He'd left the street behind him, now came the small alley; he could already see the cars at the end.
There was a noise, a scratching or something. A cat, probably, nothing unusual. Felix continued walking, the noise getting louder, almost seeming to be level with him. There lay a bundle; it was too dark to see anything, and he didn't really care. What did he care about the garbage lying in a goddamn stinking alley?
The bundle suddenly stirred. Felix stopped. His heart began to beat faster.
He squinted, trying to see what was moving on the wall in front of him. A groan reached his ear.
Aha, another drug wreck, thought Felix. That wasn't unusual around here either. On his nightly forays, he met many junkies, hanging around somewhere completely out of it. He didn't have much sympathy for them, but he always politely asked if he could help, hoping he wouldn't have to.
"Hey...do you need help?" he called impatiently, but received no clear answer.
Felix stood there undecided and could now watch as the bundle slowly stood up.
"Oh shit," he muttered, took a few steps and squatted down.
The bundle sat huddled, dirty, chin-length strands sticking to his face.
Dark streaks adorned his naked upper body.
"That's all I need," Felix hissed angrily. "A damned, half-naked junkie. Hey...
Are you all right?' He touched cold shoulders.
The junkie recoiled in horror, raised his head, and looked at Felix, shocked and afraid. His face was wet and dirty.
"Is that what it looks like?" he murmured in a trembling voice, wrapping his arms around his bare torso.
"Do you need a doctor? There's a hospital up ahead..."
"Thanks...no doctor, no hospital."
He began to cough, double over, wheeze, and struggle for air.
Felix was startled and pulled the junkie back up. "If you die now, I swear, I'll follow you to hell. You won't do that damned shit to me, do you hear?"
"Stop swearing and help me." The junkie held on to Felix and struggled to his feet.
"Well, at least you're wearing pants. I'm taking you to the hospital. I don't want to read about you in the newspaper tomorrow, saying you're the umpteenth drug victim."
He put his arm around the junkie's waist and put his arm around his neck.
“No hospital,” the junkie repeated sharply.
"It's either this or stay here."
"Do you live nearby?"
Felix shook his head. "I'm not bringing a damned drug addict into my apartment."
"I asked you not to swear and...what's a fixer?"
Felix shook his head again. "You're not right in the head. What kind of trip are you on?" he asked as they crossed the small street.
"What do you think?"
"Forget it," Felix sighed, noticing that they were now standing in front of his front door.
"Listen...you can shower, sleep, and tomorrow you're gone. No money, no drugs, no sex, no one-night stand drama...got it."
The junkie raised his head and looked Felix in the eyes. "My name is Nicolai and I'm an angel."
"Good for you, and now come." He gripped Nicolai tighter and dragged him up the stairs to his apartment.
"The bathroom's up ahead..." Felix eyed the dirty guy critically, "you can wear something of mine. And you can have another coffee tomorrow morning if you like, but that's the end of my charity."
Nicolai smiled crookedly. "It's amazing what people understand by charity these days." Felix disappeared into his bedroom, dug some old clothes out of the closet, and brought them into the bathroom, where Nicolai looked around in amazement. "What?"
Felix didn't wait for an answer, but turned on the shower water and threw his clothes on the floor. "Hurry up."
Nicolai remained alone in the small, bright bathroom, took off his dirty pants, stood under the hot water, and washed the dirt, sweat, and stench from his skin. The heat of the water relaxed his muscles.
When he was finished, he dried his wet body with a fluffy towel. It felt strange on his skin, but very pleasant.
After what seemed like an eternity, he wrapped the towel around his hips and padded barefoot across the cold floor into the living room, where Felix laid a blanket on the couch.
The angel noticed that his host had put on dry clothes: black pants and a fluffy-looking top.
"I hope I was quick," Nicolai said quietly.
Felix whirled around and stood rooted to the spot.
The damn junkie was...beautiful! Incredibly beautiful and...except for a towel...naked!
His dark-blond hair hung chin-length and still damp around his face. Perfectly arched dark eyebrows, large blue eyes, a small, delicate nose, and soft, gentle lips. His lower lip was slightly more pronounced than his upper one. He was slightly taller than Felix and much more delicate, almost girlish, his skin a creamy white shimmer, revealing his ribs above his chest.
Felix looked at him, fascinated, the small, hard nipples, the perfect belly button, the protruding hip bones above the hem of the towel.
Nicolai's hands were delicate with narrow, slender fingers that now tucked his hair behind his ear.
Felix swallowed, embarrassed. "How...why didn't you get dressed?"
Nicolai smiled. "Excuse me, but...I like this," he stroked the fabric on his hips, "against my skin." He closed his eyes contentedly. "It's so...soft..." he sighed.
Felix gasped for breath, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. "You...you can sleep here," he explained haltingly. "I'm not tired...not anymore. Come here and tell me something about yourself," Nicolai demanded, sitting down on the couch.
"No, I won't do that."
Nicolai tilted his head and blinked. "You said I'd get a coffee...
I want that now."
Felix went into the kitchen, turned on the coffee maker, and was annoyed. What did that junkie think he was doing? Why did he, Felix, do what he wanted? God...why was this guy so handsome? Felix was absolutely certain he'd never seen such a beautiful, perfect boy before. He didn't look like a junkie at all. Thin, but not pathologically emaciated. His skin wasn't pale, gray, or sallow, but white; his cheeks glowed a delicate pink like his lips; his blue eyes shone and sparkled with life. There was something very wrong with this brat sitting there almost naked on his couch, demanding coffee.
Lost in thought, he half-filled two cups, took a milk carton from the refrigerator, tucked a packet of sugar cubes under his arm, and returned to the living room. Unsteadily and trembling, he placed everything on the small glass table and sat down.
"Milk?" he asked.
The angel looked at the milk carton and shrugged. "If you say so."
"Do you want milk?" he phrased the question more clearly and first filled his own cup. Nicolai followed suit, taking the six sugar cubes and a hearty sip. "Mmm...hot," he hissed, putting a hand to his lips.
"You should put something on," Felix remarked.
"Oh yes?"
"I don't care."
"Then why do you ask for it?"
Felix sighed. "I'm going to sleep."
"No...you're supposed to tell me something," Nicolai cried hastily.
"I'm not in the mood," he grumbled.
"Please...I don't even know your name."
"Felix. Tell me...what the hell is all this about?"
Nicolai's expression darkened. "Don't speak his name in my presence."
"I say what I want, you get it. God damn it..." he snorted.
Nicolai jumped up in horror. "Enough now. I won't allow you to curse God."
"Oh shit...tell me, are you some kind of weird Jesus freak?"
“Apologize,” the angel demanded angrily.
"Bite me."
"Apologize...immediately!"
He's lost it. He's smoked his brain to mush or something, Felix thought. "Sorry," he said exaggeratedly, whereupon Nicolai slowly sat back down.
They were silent for a while. Nicolai stared into his cup, Felix stared at him. He felt an insane desire to touch this beauty.
This feeling wasn't particularly foreign to him; he occasionally felt like having sex with guys, but not recently, and that's probably why he craved it so much. Yet he wouldn't do anything in that direction. He had never done anything in that direction.
He didn't even know which gender Nicolai preferred, and he didn't want to ask him. How would that sound?!
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Felix was startled out of his thoughts.
"You find me beautiful, right?" the angel asked arrogantly, raising his perfectly arched eyebrow.
"Are you crazy?"
Nicolai looked at him questioningly. "I don't know what that means."
"Where do you come from?"
The angel brushed his hair from his face. "Would you believe me if I said I fell from heaven?"
"Hardly."
"Well, I fell out of the sky, I think. I can't remember exactly."
"Man...you're still tripping," Felix grumbled.
»Trip?«
"Forget it."
“Do you believe in God?” Nicolai wanted to know.
"Oh shit. No theological discussion now."
"No discussion. A simple question. Yes or no."
"No, I don't believe in God."
"Why not?"
"Have you ever looked around the world?"
"God created the world; he is not responsible for what people make of it."
"I don't give a shit. What's all this about?"
"I'm an angel, Felix...do you believe me?"
"Yes, of course. I meet someone on every corner who talks to angels or is one themselves."
"But it's true."
"And where are your wings?"
Nicolai cast a disappointed glance at his back. "They were there once..." He tapped his shoulder blade with his finger.
"Look, you should sleep now and...I don't know. Don't try to jump out the window because you think you can fly."
"But I can fly," Nicolai assured me, "I mean, once my wings are back," he added, blushing slightly.
"Yeah...whatever," said Felix.
The angel gently stroked Felix's chest. "That's soft...I want that. Will you give it to me?"
"No. Don't touch me," he screamed, backing away.
“I’m cold,” moaned Nicolai.
"There's a blanket there."
Felix watched as Nicolai wrapped himself in the blanket for a moment, but then pushed it away in disgust.
"It's itchy. Give me what you're wearing, please?"
Felix jumped up. "Stop this bullshit."
“Don’t go away,” the angel cried fearfully.
He had also stood up. "I'm so cold..."
Felix snorted. "Then take the damn blanket. It'll keep you warm."
Nicolai's eyes moistened. "But I don't want to be warmed by that, but by...
from you," he muttered, turning away hastily.
Felix's heart wanted to stop. He saw that the half-naked boy, who had turned his back to him, was trembling, and heard him sobbing softly. He couldn't help himself; he slowly approached him, breathing deeply. He was so close that he could smell the angel's hair. It had an intoxicating scent. The whole boy had that scent. Not of detergent, not of anything familiar; he smelled somehow sweet and...there was something Felix couldn't quite identify. But the smell reminded him of something...of a clear, cool winter night.
The tip of his nose lightly touched the fine, dark-blond hair at the back of his neck. The angel kept his head bowed. Felix's heart pounded as he spread his arms and gently embraced the angel.
Nicolai breathed loudly, raised his head and leaned into the embrace.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Felix rubbed his chest against the angel's bare back, buried his face in his hair, and allowed himself to touch his chest for a moment. His skin was soft as cotton.
Nicolai turned around, his fingers gliding over Felix's stomach, grabbing the waistband of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Then he took a step back, touched the fabric in his hands to his bare skin, put the shirt on, and smiled.
"I'm tired."
He slowly lay down on the couch and pulled the covers halfway over himself. He wrapped his arms around his body and lay motionless.
Felix shook his head, confused and annoyed.
When Felix shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, Nicolai was sitting at the table, dressed in the black pants Felix had left for him and the fluffy shirt he had worn himself.
“Hello,” the angel whispered.
Felix wanted to die, so beautiful was this boy who was now smiling at him.
"You shouldn't be here anymore," he grumbled.
"Where should I go?"
"I don't care. I told you, one night and no drama."
"Coffee," Nicolai said triumphantly. "You said I'd get a coffee."
"You already had that yesterday. What else do you want? You're already wearing my clothes. Don't you have a home or something?"
Nicolai lowered his head sadly. "But, but...it's so far away and I don't know how to get back."
"I suggest you stop using drugs in the future, okay?" said Felix, making coffee.
"I'll do anything you want if...I can stay."
If you stay, I can't guarantee anything, thought Felix, shaking his head.
"Please..." the angel begged. "If only I knew how to do the wings..."
Felix rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Don't start with that nonsense again. You're not an angel, you're an idiot who can't handle LSD."
Nicolai jumped up angrily. "Yes...I AM an angel," he cried, curling his lower lip outward slightly, like a small, angry child.
God, he's so cute, thought Felix and had to grin.
"Okay, okay, let's say...I believe you. What are you doing here? Why aren't you sitting in heaven on some fluffy cloud, playing the harp and rejoicing?"
Nicolai sat back down. "Is that your idea?"
Felix poured coffee and nodded. "Yes," he replied curtly.
"If you only knew..."
"Go ahead, I'd like to know," Felix demanded, sipping his coffee.
"You don't believe me anyway," Nicolai said, offended.
"Tell me anyway. Maybe I'll be persuaded."
"We angels," Nicolai began haughtily, "don't sit. And we don't play the harp. We don't have time for that."
"Always stressed, huh?" Felix grinned amusedly. "Having to rush from one appointment to the next. Giving the young angels flying lessons and all that."
Nicolai looked at him questioningly.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"Fight. There's a war in heaven."
Hundreds of kilometers deep. Hours, days, weeks. The angel didn't know. He didn't even know if he was falling at all. But it had to be that way. They had told him he would fall. Fall endlessly. They hadn't told him what it would feel like. They couldn't. They couldn't feel it. They couldn't feel anything.
But the angel could, and yet couldn't. It was as if he felt everything at once, and then again not. Floating, spinning, dizzying, racing, cold, heat, indescribable, roaring noise, complete silence.
Something was tugging at him, something was stroking his skin. Did he have skin? Did he even have a body anymore?
He tried to open his eyes. What eyes?
He saw nothing. No darkness. Nothing. There was nothing around him.
The angel didn't want to fall anymore and he didn't fall anymore.
Now he felt something wet on his burning skin. Drop after drop pattered onto his hair, his eyelids, his cheeks, moistening his lips, his bare torso.
The angel shivered and trembled. He felt the hard, cold ground beneath him and smelled the musty-sweet earth.
At about the same time, Felix collapsed into a flowerpot somewhere.
A whitish, viscous slime poured out onto the dark earth.
Felix choked and choked, paused, choked again, until his stomach couldn't take anything else.
He wiped his sweating face with the sleeve of his baggy jacket and staggered through the night with unsteady steps. Past the dimly lit shop windows, past barred doors, past the whirring, frantically flickering neon signs. How on earth had he gotten here? His stomach was cramping, but he couldn't vomit anymore. The pain was excruciating.
Felix wrapped his arms around his body and continued to sway, bent over.
After all, it wasn't the first time he'd wandered around drunk and high on some kind of drug. He'd get home eventually. He just needed to find his way.
He left the city center behind, clambering along the walls of buildings through narrow, dark, dirty alleys. Occasional raindrops refreshed his sweaty face.
In a matter of seconds the rain had become heavier and Felix was soaked to the skin.
He rested for a moment, leaning against a wall, then straightened up, brushed back his dark brown hair, and continued walking with firm steps. The fog in his head slowly cleared. He knew his way around this area again; he was almost home.
Just across the street, through the alley, across the street beyond, and he'd be there. He could do it. Just a few more meters, then up the stairs to his apartment, to his bed. No big deal. He'd left the street behind him, now came the small alley; he could already see the cars at the end.
There was a noise, a scratching or something. A cat, probably, nothing unusual. Felix continued walking, the noise getting louder, almost seeming to be level with him. There lay a bundle; it was too dark to see anything, and he didn't really care. What did he care about the garbage lying in a goddamn stinking alley?
The bundle suddenly stirred. Felix stopped. His heart began to beat faster.
He squinted, trying to see what was moving on the wall in front of him. A groan reached his ear.
Aha, another drug wreck, thought Felix. That wasn't unusual around here either. On his nightly forays, he met many junkies, hanging around somewhere completely out of it. He didn't have much sympathy for them, but he always politely asked if he could help, hoping he wouldn't have to.
"Hey...do you need help?" he called impatiently, but received no clear answer.
Felix stood there undecided and could now watch as the bundle slowly stood up.
"Oh shit," he muttered, took a few steps and squatted down.
The bundle sat huddled, dirty, chin-length strands sticking to his face.
Dark streaks adorned his naked upper body.
"That's all I need," Felix hissed angrily. "A damned, half-naked junkie. Hey...
Are you all right?' He touched cold shoulders.
The junkie recoiled in horror, raised his head, and looked at Felix, shocked and afraid. His face was wet and dirty.
"Is that what it looks like?" he murmured in a trembling voice, wrapping his arms around his bare torso.
"Do you need a doctor? There's a hospital up ahead..."
"Thanks...no doctor, no hospital."
He began to cough, double over, wheeze, and struggle for air.
Felix was startled and pulled the junkie back up. "If you die now, I swear, I'll follow you to hell. You won't do that damned shit to me, do you hear?"
"Stop swearing and help me." The junkie held on to Felix and struggled to his feet.
"Well, at least you're wearing pants. I'm taking you to the hospital. I don't want to read about you in the newspaper tomorrow, saying you're the umpteenth drug victim."
He put his arm around the junkie's waist and put his arm around his neck.
“No hospital,” the junkie repeated sharply.
"It's either this or stay here."
"Do you live nearby?"
Felix shook his head. "I'm not bringing a damned drug addict into my apartment."
"I asked you not to swear and...what's a fixer?"
Felix shook his head again. "You're not right in the head. What kind of trip are you on?" he asked as they crossed the small street.
"What do you think?"
"Forget it," Felix sighed, noticing that they were now standing in front of his front door.
"Listen...you can shower, sleep, and tomorrow you're gone. No money, no drugs, no sex, no one-night stand drama...got it."
The junkie raised his head and looked Felix in the eyes. "My name is Nicolai and I'm an angel."
"Good for you, and now come." He gripped Nicolai tighter and dragged him up the stairs to his apartment.
"The bathroom's up ahead..." Felix eyed the dirty guy critically, "you can wear something of mine. And you can have another coffee tomorrow morning if you like, but that's the end of my charity."
Nicolai smiled crookedly. "It's amazing what people understand by charity these days." Felix disappeared into his bedroom, dug some old clothes out of the closet, and brought them into the bathroom, where Nicolai looked around in amazement. "What?"
Felix didn't wait for an answer, but turned on the shower water and threw his clothes on the floor. "Hurry up."
Nicolai remained alone in the small, bright bathroom, took off his dirty pants, stood under the hot water, and washed the dirt, sweat, and stench from his skin. The heat of the water relaxed his muscles.
When he was finished, he dried his wet body with a fluffy towel. It felt strange on his skin, but very pleasant.
After what seemed like an eternity, he wrapped the towel around his hips and padded barefoot across the cold floor into the living room, where Felix laid a blanket on the couch.
The angel noticed that his host had put on dry clothes: black pants and a fluffy-looking top.
"I hope I was quick," Nicolai said quietly.
Felix whirled around and stood rooted to the spot.
The damn junkie was...beautiful! Incredibly beautiful and...except for a towel...naked!
His dark-blond hair hung chin-length and still damp around his face. Perfectly arched dark eyebrows, large blue eyes, a small, delicate nose, and soft, gentle lips. His lower lip was slightly more pronounced than his upper one. He was slightly taller than Felix and much more delicate, almost girlish, his skin a creamy white shimmer, revealing his ribs above his chest.
Felix looked at him, fascinated, the small, hard nipples, the perfect belly button, the protruding hip bones above the hem of the towel.
Nicolai's hands were delicate with narrow, slender fingers that now tucked his hair behind his ear.
Felix swallowed, embarrassed. "How...why didn't you get dressed?"
Nicolai smiled. "Excuse me, but...I like this," he stroked the fabric on his hips, "against my skin." He closed his eyes contentedly. "It's so...soft..." he sighed.
Felix gasped for breath, his mouth and throat suddenly dry. "You...you can sleep here," he explained haltingly. "I'm not tired...not anymore. Come here and tell me something about yourself," Nicolai demanded, sitting down on the couch.
"No, I won't do that."
Nicolai tilted his head and blinked. "You said I'd get a coffee...
I want that now."
Felix went into the kitchen, turned on the coffee maker, and was annoyed. What did that junkie think he was doing? Why did he, Felix, do what he wanted? God...why was this guy so handsome? Felix was absolutely certain he'd never seen such a beautiful, perfect boy before. He didn't look like a junkie at all. Thin, but not pathologically emaciated. His skin wasn't pale, gray, or sallow, but white; his cheeks glowed a delicate pink like his lips; his blue eyes shone and sparkled with life. There was something very wrong with this brat sitting there almost naked on his couch, demanding coffee.
Lost in thought, he half-filled two cups, took a milk carton from the refrigerator, tucked a packet of sugar cubes under his arm, and returned to the living room. Unsteadily and trembling, he placed everything on the small glass table and sat down.
"Milk?" he asked.
The angel looked at the milk carton and shrugged. "If you say so."
"Do you want milk?" he phrased the question more clearly and first filled his own cup. Nicolai followed suit, taking the six sugar cubes and a hearty sip. "Mmm...hot," he hissed, putting a hand to his lips.
"You should put something on," Felix remarked.
"Oh yes?"
"I don't care."
"Then why do you ask for it?"
Felix sighed. "I'm going to sleep."
"No...you're supposed to tell me something," Nicolai cried hastily.
"I'm not in the mood," he grumbled.
"Please...I don't even know your name."
"Felix. Tell me...what the hell is all this about?"
Nicolai's expression darkened. "Don't speak his name in my presence."
"I say what I want, you get it. God damn it..." he snorted.
Nicolai jumped up in horror. "Enough now. I won't allow you to curse God."
"Oh shit...tell me, are you some kind of weird Jesus freak?"
“Apologize,” the angel demanded angrily.
"Bite me."
"Apologize...immediately!"
He's lost it. He's smoked his brain to mush or something, Felix thought. "Sorry," he said exaggeratedly, whereupon Nicolai slowly sat back down.
They were silent for a while. Nicolai stared into his cup, Felix stared at him. He felt an insane desire to touch this beauty.
This feeling wasn't particularly foreign to him; he occasionally felt like having sex with guys, but not recently, and that's probably why he craved it so much. Yet he wouldn't do anything in that direction. He had never done anything in that direction.
He didn't even know which gender Nicolai preferred, and he didn't want to ask him. How would that sound?!
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Felix was startled out of his thoughts.
"You find me beautiful, right?" the angel asked arrogantly, raising his perfectly arched eyebrow.
"Are you crazy?"
Nicolai looked at him questioningly. "I don't know what that means."
"Where do you come from?"
The angel brushed his hair from his face. "Would you believe me if I said I fell from heaven?"
"Hardly."
"Well, I fell out of the sky, I think. I can't remember exactly."
"Man...you're still tripping," Felix grumbled.
»Trip?«
"Forget it."
“Do you believe in God?” Nicolai wanted to know.
"Oh shit. No theological discussion now."
"No discussion. A simple question. Yes or no."
"No, I don't believe in God."
"Why not?"
"Have you ever looked around the world?"
"God created the world; he is not responsible for what people make of it."
"I don't give a shit. What's all this about?"
"I'm an angel, Felix...do you believe me?"
"Yes, of course. I meet someone on every corner who talks to angels or is one themselves."
"But it's true."
"And where are your wings?"
Nicolai cast a disappointed glance at his back. "They were there once..." He tapped his shoulder blade with his finger.
"Look, you should sleep now and...I don't know. Don't try to jump out the window because you think you can fly."
"But I can fly," Nicolai assured me, "I mean, once my wings are back," he added, blushing slightly.
"Yeah...whatever," said Felix.
The angel gently stroked Felix's chest. "That's soft...I want that. Will you give it to me?"
"No. Don't touch me," he screamed, backing away.
“I’m cold,” moaned Nicolai.
"There's a blanket there."
Felix watched as Nicolai wrapped himself in the blanket for a moment, but then pushed it away in disgust.
"It's itchy. Give me what you're wearing, please?"
Felix jumped up. "Stop this bullshit."
“Don’t go away,” the angel cried fearfully.
He had also stood up. "I'm so cold..."
Felix snorted. "Then take the damn blanket. It'll keep you warm."
Nicolai's eyes moistened. "But I don't want to be warmed by that, but by...
from you," he muttered, turning away hastily.
Felix's heart wanted to stop. He saw that the half-naked boy, who had turned his back to him, was trembling, and heard him sobbing softly. He couldn't help himself; he slowly approached him, breathing deeply. He was so close that he could smell the angel's hair. It had an intoxicating scent. The whole boy had that scent. Not of detergent, not of anything familiar; he smelled somehow sweet and...there was something Felix couldn't quite identify. But the smell reminded him of something...of a clear, cool winter night.
The tip of his nose lightly touched the fine, dark-blond hair at the back of his neck. The angel kept his head bowed. Felix's heart pounded as he spread his arms and gently embraced the angel.
Nicolai breathed loudly, raised his head and leaned into the embrace.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Felix rubbed his chest against the angel's bare back, buried his face in his hair, and allowed himself to touch his chest for a moment. His skin was soft as cotton.
Nicolai turned around, his fingers gliding over Felix's stomach, grabbing the waistband of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Then he took a step back, touched the fabric in his hands to his bare skin, put the shirt on, and smiled.
"I'm tired."
He slowly lay down on the couch and pulled the covers halfway over himself. He wrapped his arms around his body and lay motionless.
Felix shook his head, confused and annoyed.
When Felix shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, Nicolai was sitting at the table, dressed in the black pants Felix had left for him and the fluffy shirt he had worn himself.
“Hello,” the angel whispered.
Felix wanted to die, so beautiful was this boy who was now smiling at him.
"You shouldn't be here anymore," he grumbled.
"Where should I go?"
"I don't care. I told you, one night and no drama."
"Coffee," Nicolai said triumphantly. "You said I'd get a coffee."
"You already had that yesterday. What else do you want? You're already wearing my clothes. Don't you have a home or something?"
Nicolai lowered his head sadly. "But, but...it's so far away and I don't know how to get back."
"I suggest you stop using drugs in the future, okay?" said Felix, making coffee.
"I'll do anything you want if...I can stay."
If you stay, I can't guarantee anything, thought Felix, shaking his head.
"Please..." the angel begged. "If only I knew how to do the wings..."
Felix rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Don't start with that nonsense again. You're not an angel, you're an idiot who can't handle LSD."
Nicolai jumped up angrily. "Yes...I AM an angel," he cried, curling his lower lip outward slightly, like a small, angry child.
God, he's so cute, thought Felix and had to grin.
"Okay, okay, let's say...I believe you. What are you doing here? Why aren't you sitting in heaven on some fluffy cloud, playing the harp and rejoicing?"
Nicolai sat back down. "Is that your idea?"
Felix poured coffee and nodded. "Yes," he replied curtly.
"If you only knew..."
"Go ahead, I'd like to know," Felix demanded, sipping his coffee.
"You don't believe me anyway," Nicolai said, offended.
"Tell me anyway. Maybe I'll be persuaded."
"We angels," Nicolai began haughtily, "don't sit. And we don't play the harp. We don't have time for that."
"Always stressed, huh?" Felix grinned amusedly. "Having to rush from one appointment to the next. Giving the young angels flying lessons and all that."
Nicolai looked at him questioningly.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"Fight. There's a war in heaven."